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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23466337">Close Your Eyes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta'>akire_yta</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>prompt ficlets [648]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Thunderbirds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Gen, implied dub!con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:20:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,393</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23466337</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>hedwigstalons asked<br/>I'm loving your character/song prompt stories. How about John and 528, please?<br/>528: She Wants Revenge - Tear You Apart</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>prompt ficlets [648]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/53353</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>John keeps his shoulders back so tightly he can feel the ache radiate up to the base of his spine.</p><p>The rope around his wrists doesn’t give him a lot of play anyway, but there is a comfort in a rigid posture as his captor circles him as she looks him up and down.</p><p>He hates the way it makes his pulse flutter.  He needs to focus. “So when is your boss getting here to yank your strings and pat your head?” he drawls, trying for insouciant and getting close enough to make her glare.</p><p>“You shut your pretty little mouth,” Havoc claps her palm against his cheek, leaving it there along his jaw as she leans in. “You’re the talking one, yeah? Well, the boss has left it up to me how I get to shut you up.” She leans in until she’s only inches away.</p><p>John’s mind is racing. “He doesn’t know, does he?” His brain has always done this, leapt along three tiny facts and out his mouth before he can stop it, but the way Havoc flinches tells him he’s right. “Have you gone off book again?  Careful, The Hood might muzzle you. That’s what you do to stray dogs, right?”</p><p>The hand on his cheek turns into a slap, and John purses his lips to taste the hint of iron as he lets his head loll back around to look at her.  Her cheeks have a high colour, and John wishes like anything he had more information about what is going on.</p><p>He exhales slowly, putting the few shards together into half a picture. “But then again, when you’re the clever one, the temptation to go out on that limb is always strong, isn’t it?”</p><p>It’s just a flicker, the most minuscule flash of her gaze down and up, but John sees it. “Yeah, you really do talk too much, don’t you?”</p><p>John knows this is a fifty fifty risk, but half odds are better than none. “Why don’t you shut me up then?”</p><p>He doesn’t flinch at her hand around his throat, or the hard press of her lips on his. He just lets her take out her frustration in a kiss that was more a bite, feeling her fingers dig in to the muscles close to his throat.</p><p>She snaps back suddenly, hand still tight.  “I’m not gonna let you go,” she snarls.</p><p>John breathes as deeply as he dares. “But you’re not going to hand me to the Hood either.”</p><p>She licks her lips, and he wonders if she knows she’s doing it.  “Alright, clever boy. Be my guest.”  The hand lets go and the boot catches him low in the ribs, sending him tumbling back into a cell barely bigger than he was.  John takes a moment, gathering his breath and his wits, assessing his assets.</p><p>They were scant, but he’d bought himself some time.</p><p>In the privacy of his dark little prison, John licks his own lips and smiles.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>so i made @thebaconsandwichofregret pick another number and this is what span up:</p><p>Unholy, Dirty and Beautiful - David Usher</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>John’s read about Stockholm Syndrome, at the time just another assigned reading as he completed required coursework for his emergency management qualifications.</p><p>He’s still not sure he believes in it.</p><p>Havoc thinks she’s smart, and perhaps in a certain context that might have been true; she’s definitely clever, whip-quick in a way that sometimes serves her well, sometimes ill.</p><p>True to her word, she hasn’t handed him over to the Hood.  John had sat in his cupboard and listened through the grate on the door at a madman’s rages.  Surely Havoc was quick enough to realize he was a sinking ship that could and would drag her down?</p><p>But for now, she’s all ‘yes boss’ and ‘no boss’ as she’s ordered to continue lay low.  The Hood has yet to uncover why International Rescue is an upturned hornet’s nest, dragging in the GDF and every other acronym besides as they scoured the globe.</p><p>The Hood isn’t smart, but he’s wise enough not to draw that kind of attention.</p><p>The Chaos Cruiser isn’t that big, definitely not designed to hold hostages, to serve as long-term accommodation.  John definitely misses his bunk, custom-sized to his own sleeping style, way above him on Thunderbird Five.</p><p>The wince and the crack as he stretches his neck are unfeigned as she lets him out of his pen.  She’s been doing this more and more.</p><p>She’s probably as bored as he is.</p><p>“Another fabulous day of sitting around?”</p><p>She scowls. “I will put you back in that cupboard.”</p><p>“Aw, where’s the fun in that.  Come on, Miss Havoc-” her little nose wrinkle at her new nickname was still bringing him joy. “-let’s play a game.”</p><p>“Sorry,” she says, hip cocked and head tilted.  “I forgot to pack a deck of cards.”</p><p>“You are you telling me you never played dumb games when you were a kid.”</p><p>“Yeah, not all of us got kumbaya around the campfire, Stretch.” There’s a little smirk, proud of herself for entering the nickname game.</p><p>John can work with this.  He takes the jump seat, extends his arms over his head as he works out the kinks of his captivity.  She watches openly now, and they both know it.  “Come on, spin the bottle? Twenty questions? Truth or dare?”</p><p>“What kind of dares do you think we can do in a ship hiding on the sea floor?”</p><p>John files that knowledge away; she always blanks the view screens before letting him out.  They can’t be very deep though, he can’t remember popping his ears. “Oh, I can think of a few.  Truth or dare?”</p><p>She folds her arms, spinning her chair to full face him.  “Alright then? Dare.”</p><p>John considers his options then undoes his top button.  Only the tiniest lift of her eyebrow betrays her as he tugs out of his shirt and flips it away to drape over an unused controller.  “My turn.  Truth or dare?”</p><p>She looks at her boots then back at him. “Truth?”</p><p>John smiles.  “Fastest way to turn you on?”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“Yes. And you chose truth, no takebacks.”</p><p>He can see from here the way her jaw sets.  She’s his captor, she can end this any time.  But Havoc seemed like the kid of girl to never back away from a thrown gauntlet.</p><p>She lifts her chin.  “Lick my boots.”</p><p>Her smile freezes as John slides out his chair, almost crawls the tiny space and takes her heel in his hand.  Only there, looking up at her does he say “liar.”</p><p>She jerks back.  John lets his hand slide around her ankle, along her calf to rest on her knee.  He can feel the shiver, the microscopic way she pushes into his touch.  He dares to press his advance a little more, bringing both hands onto her knees and resting his chin atop so he has to look up through his lashes to see her face. He feels her deep breath as she wrenches back control.  “Oh yeah. If you’re so smart, what’s the right answer?”</p><p>He’s been thinking about that, for exactly this moment. “You want someone to touch you gently and tell you what a good girl you are,” he says, extending his hands up her thighs.</p><p>The sharp inhale tells him he’s hit jackpot.  She kicks him back, and he lets himself sprawl on the deck, hands behind him and knees wide, the grating digging into his skin. She stands to straddle him, and this time it’s John whose breath quickens.</p><p>She leans down low, close enough to his face he can feel her hot breath. “You think you know me?”</p><p>This time he’s the one to grab her by the base of her scalp, pull her forward until she’s almost unbalanced, her fingers splaying on his bare chest as he steals a kiss.  When he breaks it off, she chases his lips for half a second more.</p><p>The hand of his chest digs in its claws. “Don’t,” she bites off, “do that again.”</p><p>“Is that truth or a dare?”</p><p>Her teeth sink into his lower lip, and John lets go and lets it happen, his eyes mapping the control panels he can see over her now-bare shoulder.</p><p>Her fingers tighten back around his throat, and drag him back into the moment.  “Tell me I’m beautiful,” she pants.</p><p>“You’re beautiful,” he says, and realizes he means it.</p>
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